


take a shot for me

by purplesealion2



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Cunnilingus, Deepthroating, Double Penetration, Double Sucking, F/M, Fingering, Infidelity, M/M, Oral Sex, Revenge Sex, Spanking, Threesome - F/M/M, i honestly don't know how to tag, safe sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-19
Updated: 2014-12-19
Packaged: 2018-03-02 06:11:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2802395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplesealion2/pseuds/purplesealion2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis screws up. Zayn, Harry and Eleanor get back at him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	take a shot for me

**Author's Note:**

> So, this happened and I have absolutely no excuses.
> 
> I'd like to thank [catholicschoolgirl](http://catholicschoolgirl.tumblr.com/) for beta reading this and you probably should as well because now it makes sense <3 ahahahah jk, but she did an amazing job and I'm sososo glad she accepted doing this for me. Thank you a lot, love!
> 
> I'm sorry if this offends you in anyway. It doesn't reflect my feelings towards Louis at all. It's honestly just fiction. The mean kind of fiction.  
> I hardly ever write or read heterosexual smut, so if it feels odd... I'm sorry again.

 

 

 

 

 

#

 

Louis stares at the bed first thing when he gets to the bedroom because he can just feel that's where things started.

He knows his girl, knows exactly how she can walk quietly towards a mattress, not even looking back, confident enough to be sure she's being followed.

He shivers as he almost sees the shadow of her body - long legs, great ass, lovely hair - kneeling slowly on the king sized bedroom of Harry's room. There's a lump in his throat impossible to swallow around making his voice sound husky when he says, "Tell me everything".

His eyes are burning.

Zayn doesn't seem surprised at all that Louis followed him there. He doesn't even turn from the window he's leaning into, one hand on the frame above his head and the other holding an already lit cigarette. He lets out a dry laugh that sounds like he's the one hurt. Though both of them know that's not true. Not right now, at least.

"What do you want to know?" he says, letting out the smoke. "Do you want me to tell you how badly you've fucked up? That we were just trying to get back at you?" He is smiling when he faces Louis but even with the small light a lamp near the bed offers them Louis can see the smile is maniac, false. "Or just how deeply sorry we are?”

Louis can't stand looking at Zayn for long - his guts turn - so he faces the bed again. That gesture tells him Zayn can just anticipate what Louis is about to say; it's both obvious and pathetic for him to ask such thing. He does it anyway.

"No. I've already heard all this bullshit." He swallows his own saliva, the lump bigger and bigger, trying to keep him from talking as if his body is rejecting his intentions, but he fights it with the strength he has left. He knows better.

The previous argument in the living room, Harry crying shamelessly, Louis himself saying things he never had the guts to even think clearly. It had taken all the strength from him. He had very little dignity and courage to keep going. But he knew, the minute Harry collapsed on the couch and Zayn turned his back on them walking to the bedroom, that he had to get it over with. He had to get himself over them both and also Eleanor, if he’s lucky.

That’s the only reason why he came after Zayn. The silence was heavy in the house after all that noise while he walked through the hallway, the ghost of his girlfriend giggling in front of him, flipping her hair, looking over her shoulder just for fun.

A part of him wanted to go further, deeper, see all those dead memories alive so he can believe it. So he can hate them instead of just himself.

It’s funny, somehow, how after all he has done to them, they’ll finally set him free. Or let him burn in hell once and for all.

"I want you to tell me _how-_ "

He doesn't finish his sentence and for him it's pretty lame to ask Zayn to say the things he can't word himself. But then again, Zayn's guts were fine when he was doing it. They should probably handle him talking about it too.

By the corner of his eyes he can see as Zayn takes another drag of the cigarette, eyes on Louis while Louis can't stop looking at the bed as if it was a dragon in the room, fear and curiosity mixing in his chest.

"Tell you how.” He whispers. “Tell you how we touched her," Zayn completes for him.

Louis nods, licks his lips, his mouth suddenly dry.

Surprisingly enough Zayn doesn't even need convincing, up for the whole job of breaking Louis. When Louis closes his eyes and listens to Zayn’s soft voice he is just... There.

With the first words, a fat tear rolls over his cheek and he can't find the strength to wipe it off - arms tensed up by the sides of his body.

He wishes the description didn't feel so vivid as word after word Zayn rips his heart out of his chest.

 

 

#

 

 

Eleanor is a horny drunk. Everybody knows that, including herself, and that is okay.

It had been learned in late nights at hotels, the band and girlfriends or hook ups getting drunk in any bedroom, watching movies and playing games until Eleanor started acting inappropriate. Louis always giggled in her mouth, trying to shush her while eyeing the boys smugly. He always pretended to be embarrassed but everybody knew he adored it.

The thing they didn't know until now - both Zayn and Harry - is how she can talk with her eyes, specially on the sex matter. To the point none of them say anything about it through three bottles of red wine - and then she's kneeling on the middle of the bed, Zayn doing just the same behind her; close enough they can feel the warmth of their bodies but not so much that they touch.

Despite the fact Zayn knows exactly how Harry looks like when he is all hot and bothered (or as turned on as it gets) and Eleanor's back is a fucking new land to explore, Zayn can't help but look at the boy for a second. Harry’s standing in front of the bed, staring at them both. His eyes are so, so dark it’s offensive.

He can't know for sure, he has never seen it, but he has a hint Harry's expression is mirroring El's when she lets out a long sigh.

Harry copies their position, getting on his knees in front of the girl and tucks a lock of her hair behind her ear. He can see Zayn's lost on Eleanor's back, slightly covered by her silky loose top he had been studying for forever now, the orange and thin material shaping the outline of her small breasts just perfectly during the whole evening.

"Do you know what you are about to do?” Harry asks, worrying his lower lip.

Zayn just faces her skin, wonders if it’ll taste sweet or salty under his tongue, feels the muscle itching, and then he thinks how silly Harry is to even consider that they can turn around now.

His face is hot with drink and lust.

"I can't care," she says and it means a lot but it seems like nothing as Harry leans in and finally takes her lips eagerly. She hums into his mouth and the sound gets Zayn's hands immediately on both sides of her waist, holding her in place but mostly just touching, feeling her slim and fragile body under his strong hand.

When Harry finally moves his own hands to grab both of her arms Zayn can't help it anymore, his own mouth watering from the sounds the two of them are making exploring each other's mouths. Moving one hand to get her hair out of the way he leans in and touches her shoulder with his mouth - no kissing, no licking, just the soft touch of his closed mouth and hot breath, feeling inebriated by the scent of her feminine perfume. ‘Sweet’, he guesses, all of his strength holding his tongue back from licking.

Harry is more eager, soft lips but hard tongue licking into her mouth to taste her. For a long while Eleanor just takes, open mouth and static body letting them savour her. It feels oddly like her plea to not-guilty, like if she just stays still, it won’t be her fault.

It lasts until Zayn runs his teeth through her shoulder taking a soft bite. One of her hands go to the back of Harry's neck, taking control, smoothing the kiss, pressuring her tongue just right so Harry relaxes and kisses her properly. The other goes back, reaching for Zayn's body, sloppily holding him by the side of his waist and pushing him closer, fingernails asking for roughness.

With the change of her arms' positions, Harry puts his hands on her waist and ends up interlacing a couple of fingers with Zayn because they both can't look. They just hold on, though, pleased to count with each other in that moment when everything changes.

Or does it, really? Because everything changed a week ago with the breaking news of long years of lies.

(With a sad thought that oddly fills him with more desire, Zayn remembers Harry was never the one he would say 'fuck it' and wreck it with. That was Louis. But, well, fuck that too. Fuck Louis.)

When Harry goes down, kissing her chin and moving for her neck she turns her head, giving him more skin to explore, but mostly turning to look for Zayn's mouth. He finds her soon, licking on her lips, tasting Harry inside her mouth until he can taste just her and it's his time to sigh because she tastes like fucking heaven.

 

#

 

Louis' mouth tastes like all the words he is holding back so he doesn’t interrupt Zayn.

Zayn takes a drag of the cigarette before tossing it out of the window and looking for his pack to get another. As far as Louis knows - and he knows a lot from the late nights sharing joints and beer - Zayn is hardly a chain smoker, but the situation demands some desperate measures. Louis could use some relief as well. He just doesn't want it. He wants it sharp and rough because he needs to make sure he hates them enough to never look back when they are finished.

(He loves them so much, though. He needs so much more to be done.)

Louis walks towards the bed and sits there, back to the center of the mattress, but he feels the illusion of its movements anyway. The heat of three bodies just behind him crawling in his imagination.

Zayn turns around and sits on the window sill, lights up the cigarette and continues.

And for that part Louis wants to look straight into his eyes even if he tastes bile in his mouth.

 

#

 

It's Harry who removes her lovely silky top, messing her hair a bit and then touching it with devotion, hands too sloppy, kissing her mouth again. But it's Zayn who lays her down after seeing the black lace bra on her back, crazy curious about how it looks in the front and about how it tastes as he kisses and licks at the fabric over her breasts.

Eleanor keeps her eyes on Harry who is kneeling by their side, his eyes navigating from Zayn's back covered with a dark shirt and Eleanor’s smirk, which is soon replaced by parted lips and sighs of pleasure.

Zayn is sucking on her right nipple over the fabric, one hand cupping the other breast and she reaches out for Harry's as she closes her eyes.

Harry obliges, bending over and taking her mouth and then moving down until Zayn gets his hand off her and he can suck her nipple too, already hard from the previous touches. The position is wrong, not quite fighting, but sharing the small space on top of her with Zayn and the warmth of his body is welcoming and different from Eleanor's. Both of them feeling so inviting he is confused for a second.

Zayn decides he wants more and pushes her bra roughly down, the straps stretching a bit and the lace caught under her breasts working as a strange push-up, but he ignores it and tastes the soft flesh, warm skin under his lips, his flat tongue. His movement forces Harry to do just the same and it's equally delicious to the three of them to finally have skin on skin (or tongue on skin as it goes).

Zayn and Harry both move their hands down, Harry working on the button of her jeans and Zayn rubbing between her thighs and she just tries to jerk her hips up, held in place by the mindblowing strength of two boys. They run their flat tongues over the hard nipple, one of them more into sucking than biting but she can’t know who. She feels everything, the difference between their bodies, their mouths, but it’s all mixed in her head as they touch her.

With a hand in each boy's hair, messing soft curls and pulling straight locks, she moans and sighs.

Harry moves down first, pushing Zayn slightly aside in the process and getting a look from him like he thought about it before so Harry should have let him, but Harry just smirks. _Early birds gets the worm_ , he'd say.

But he doesn't.

And with the thought the smirk dies a little.

Instead Harry starts to pull Eleanor's skinny jeans off, revealing first her waist bones and her lower belly and he takes a second to lick and kiss the newly exposed skin.

Zayn puts one hand behind her back and she tries awkwardly to help both of them at the same time, lifting her upper body and her legs in turns, but it doesn't do much. It's Zayn, with one hand supporting his body up and the other caught between the mattress and her back, who removes her bra easily with two fingers. It makes her wonder how much practice he's had with that - he is probably thinking about it too as he smugly smirks. Once the bra is off he leans in and takes her mouth again and feels her small hands moving up his body inside his shirt, touching the firm muscles of his stomach.

She feels the heat of his body over her now naked breasts, too far to touch, but close enough to make her think of it.

Harry removes her dark jeans, so tight around her legs that they turn inside out and get stuck on her ankles, big hands touching her feet to free them. Then he gets settled in between her thighs, studying her black transparent panties. His thumb runs over the rough fabric on the hood hiding her clit and then he covers all of her with one hand pressing the skin, cupping the soft flesh. It's just desire, his wish to touch her, and not quite aiming to please, but Eleanor hums approvingly inside of Zayn's mouth and that's all the motivation he needed.

He ups his hand and softly slaps her pussy once. She instantaneously jerks up, a loud moan suffocated in Zayn's mouth and Zayn is also pleased. He interrupts the kiss to get both of her hands and hold them against the mattress over her head.

Eleanor looks at him confused for a second and their gazes feel heavy until Zayn breaks it to look at her red swollen lips and the shade of faded lip gloss all over her chin.

"Shh" Zayn says, his eyes dark with lust staring back at hers again, and Harry rubs up and down between her thighs before distancing his hand and slapping her again, harder this time.

"Fuc- Ah," Eleanor starts to say and Harry slaps her one more time so it gets turned into a moan.

It’s not too strong, but every time his hand meets her pussy, it feels electric, true energy in between her thighs. Eleanor can’t help but kick out a little.

"I said shh," Zayn repeats looking at her for a second, his hair falling in front of his eyes as he leans in, still holding her arms up. He keeps eyeing what Harry is doing down there and then up, to her face, Eleanor’s eyes tearing a little and her mouth in an open 'O' as Harry gives really small and soft slaps to her pussy over and over again. She jerks her hips up each time, crying for friction she only gets in small fractions.

Then, probably unable to control himself anymore, Harry presses her pussy with the whole hand again, cups her again, the fabric of her panties rough and wet on her soft skin.

Harry sighs heavily.

"I bet you taste really sweet", he says and moves down to lick her tight but doesn't get his mouth where she wants it. "Your smell. You are already so, so wet."

She keeps moving the thigh he is kissing and licking deviously, trying to get him closer to her clit, anything, really, but he just tastes the soft skin, the palm of his hand rubbing in the wet fabric. Then he gets up, offers the hand with the shiny precum to Zayn.

"Tell me how she tastes, Zee." He asks as he moves up again but he is licking his own lips like he wants to taste her himself so Zayn sucks his two middle fingers slowly, licks in between them to get all he can and then gives kitten licks to his palm. When he’s done and he can’t taste her anymore in Harry’s palm, he releases Eleanor’s arms and moves towards Harry, both of them kneeling up on each side of her.

Zayn can’t name it, the taste, the texture and the warmth he gets for just that small sample. He also knows his failing tries wouldn’t be close to satisfying Harry’s hunger, so obvious in the look in his eyes, the way his mouth is half open and his lips are shiny with saliva.

So he says, "I can show you," and their mouths finally meet.

 

#

 

Louis can't help it, it slips out of his mouth before he can fully understand what he is saying.

It's not that he doesn't know,but he wonders what it was like for Zayn. Like when you watch a movie and you know that it's great but you ask your best friend anyway just to be sure you two are on the same page.

Except a hundred times sicker, a million times more hurtful.

"And what did she taste like?" Is what he half-says and half-asks, already feeling the memory of her in his mouth.

"Harry was right. She is sweet," Zayn simply says like they are talking about the weather. Or any other girl. "The sweetest I've ever," he doesn't say it (fucked). There's no need to.

Louis presses his lips together trying to hold on to that memory, how it used to be intimate and now it's not. How her body was a secret they had, Eleanor and him, and now Zayn looks at him and he just knows, he knows it all. The noises she makes, what gets her breathless, the taste of every inch of her skin, of her sex, everything.

Harry, sitting in the living room, knows it too.

Then he thinks about her, how much she's learned in one night with both Harry and Zayn.

With a sick thought he wonders if she liked them better than she liked him. If she came harder than she would have with him.

The small part of him that knows the answer to that also knows there's way more to it than a few slaps on the pussy, so he just waits for Zayn to continue.

 

#

 

"Aren't you two overdressed for the occasion?" is what she says as she watches them kiss.

Harry agrees immediately and takes Zayn's shirt off, tracing the tattoos on his chest with kisses and licks of flat tongue and too much saliva. Probably not the best he can do, but Zayn tastes good too, a little salty in contrast with the previous sweet of Eleanor in his mouth, and Harry just wants to lick him all over.

He starts to work on Zayn's jeans and stops to let him take off his shirt, feeling Eleanor's small fingers almost instantaneously on his hips, her grip tight on the soft flesh of his waist. Then he's pushing Zayn's trousers down along with his underwear, exposing his dick, licking on the skin over his stomach down to his belly button and up again, purposely ignoring the well-known member.

Eleanor can't, though. She touches Zayn's groin, shy to go further but mouth watering at the hard and pink cock right in front of her.

And Zayn. He feels oddly exposed, the first to have his dick out, and can't help but blush slightly when he feels El's hand tempted to touch him.

He looks down instinctively to see her and finds hunger in her eyes as she stares at his cock. It gets him crazy for her to touch him, or maybe he could touch her face with his dick, force it past her parted lips, or slap her cheek with it. All thoughts only getting him harder.

"Go on," he encourages her even though he’s shy too. "Touch me."

Eleanor follows, trying his weight on her palm and circling him with her fingers, softly caressing the skin. It's teasing and absolutely no fair.

Harry leans back to watch and she takes advantage to move from the position she'd  held unconsciously with their presence on top of her, turning on her side and moving down, resting her weight on her elbow until she is facing his dick and studies him, slowly adding more pressure to her touch, moving her hand along his length.

"You are so-" she starts but doesn't finish.

He would die to know what she meant but then her mouth is full and she’s a lady - she won’t talk with her mouth full.

Harry takes her hair in one hand very dearly at first, but then he pulls at it a little, just to take control of the movements of her head. She doesn’t hold back. Since the second she put him in her mouth she’s been sucking eagerly, the head, the length, all she can take, and her mouth is warm but also is his dick so they both close their eyes. Only Harry can’t look away, eyeing her from up and back, but managing to see just right when she takes Zayn in her mouth, hollowing her cheeks.

Her position is wrong, she can’t get much of him, but that doesn’t keep her from trying. And then Zayn is sighing and he’s so beautiful. Harry looks at him for one second and touches his face, fingers tracing his parted lips.

His dick is hard trapped in his pants.

 

#

 

“She gives good head,” Zayn states.

Louis doesn’t need that information, though. He snorts, chest filled with anger and pain. He doesn’t say _I know_. He doesn’t say anything because he asked for this. After all that has happened, this was the part he’d asked for.

But if he hadn’t, he’d say _fuck you_  and he would break some bones. His hands closed into fists to state his feelings.

Although it's also because he knows what Eleanor meant. He had thought the same when he first saw Zayn naked and he and El are the same. He knows she couldn't finish her sentence because there was no words. Zayn was so beautiful-hard-delicious - things one couldn't phrase.

"Do you think she was going to say big?" He asks out of curiosity and Zayn shakes his head.

"Nah," he shrugs.

Even if it isn't completely true, Louis says, "She wasn't," and it's a small win - to know something Zayn doesn't.

One night can't teach you all there's to learn about someone.

 

#

 

The first time Louis met the woman, he told Zayn about it. How could he not, really? They would tell each other everything.

The problem was when he talked to Zayn he was scared but not morally against the idea - he didn’t know everything, though - and Zayn was. Zayn was insulted they even considered he’d say yes.

So he never mentioned the second time.

It wasn't supposed to be that bad, but now he knows he was very naïve in thinking it wasn’t a huge deal.

So he made money, he went behind everyone’s back, he secured his place in the band without anyone knowing it, and he sabotaged them. Over and over again.

But it wasn’t out of pure evil, it was out of fear.

And that they would never get.

 

#

 

"Yeah, baby." It's Harry who talks, one hand holding her hair and the other working on his jeans enough to pull his hard dick out. He runs his hand over its length and the skin is sensitive enough that he sighs, eyes on Eleanor all the way. "He feels good, doesn't he?"

She tries to nod in agreement but between Harry's hand and Zayn's dick there is no space for moving other than back and forth.

Zayn touches her face, index finger touching her lips where it meets his cock and then pushing it in, so she sucks on it too, a little saliva getting it wet and then spilling out. He touches the inside of her cheek pulling on it so it opens her mouth wider.

Unable to suck because he’s forcing her mouth open, she teases him with her tongue, flat under him and then hard on the tip, kitten licks on the head and over the slit. Eleanor can taste him, small drops of precum she wouldn't be able to see but can sense just right in her mouth. He’s a little sour but it makes her physically hungry for more.

"Why don't you suck us both," Zayn says instead of asking. "Bet you can't, with your pretty little mouth."

"Fuck, I bet _you can._ " Harry moans with the thought.

Eleanor pulls back and stares Zayn up and down up, her shining eyes showing how much she wants it, too. He takes his hand off her face to get his dick, touching it and then using the tip to trace imaginary lines on her swollen lips and cheek, but keeping it away every time she tries to get it back in her mouth.

"I can try," she offers in a whisper, hot breath against his dick and balls, and moves from the bed, one hand getting Harry with her.

Eleanor kneels on the floor beside the bed with Harry standing in front of her and she gives an open mouth kiss to the tip of his cock, no tongue, just soft lips running over the head. Before Harry can get her hair again and force her forward she leans back, looks to Zayn kneeling still on the bed.

"You coming or what," she says to Zayn.

"Coming, I hope." He moves slowly but gets to the floor and stands next to Harry. "If you please, that is. Open up." He gets his thumb on her chin to open her mouth and she is amused, he can see it in her eyes, but she plays along and doesn't smile or laugh: just innocently parts her lips. "Come on, baby."

Harry is holding his own unattended dick, lazily running his hand over it while he observes the two of them, El getting Zayn again in her mouth, but just a little, just a tease.

Truth is when it's Zayn and him he knows which role to play. Zayn gets him under in a moment, demanding as he is. He also knows the dynamic when it's a girl, be her dominant or submissive, but when it's a three way special, where does it put him?

Zayn senses it, though. He can read Harry like a piece of paper. He feels his body tensing by his side with the way Zayn is acting and makes the decision for him, turning to face him and ordering. "Put your dick in her mouth, love. I wanna see El sucking you off."

He does as he’s told.

Her mouth is deliciously warm. She curls her tongue on him, licks and tastes before she sucks him, hollowing her cheeks. From up there she is probably the most beautiful thing he has ever seen, eyes on him all the way, a mad look one only gets with the taste of vengeance.

Zayn touches himself with his right hand and with the left he touches her face, caressing her chin. "Balls now, baby," he asks and she obliges, never breaking eye contact with Harry.

At first she just licks, gets him a little slick. Then she fits both of his balls in her mouth and sucks softly at the skin, thin trimmed hair on her tongue and lips. Harry's dick is left hanging on top of her face that is turned to the side to reach and he wants to touch himself but he doesn't want to mess such a pretty picture. That’s why when Zayn reaches for him it's just perfect - it's exactly what he needed.

Harry is wet with Eleanor's saliva when Zayn gets him in his hand, hot and probably tasting delicious. The idea (and the memory of the feeling of Harry's dick in his mouth) almost gets Zayn on his knees but then Eleanor uses a free hand to give Zayn a sloppy hand job too and Zayn decides he wants this more.

"It's time, open wide, El." He orders.

Harry can feel how she clenches with that.

She makes a muffled sound before letting Harry's balls fall out of her mouth. "Has he ever told you anything about me?"

The way Eleanor asks it, it sounds like an honest question. In a way it gets them thinking she had been curious about it since she got up from the couch where Harry's hand had ended up on her thigh and she kept trading dirty looks with Zayn across the room over her glass of wine.

But she hadn't. The thought had just crossed her mind because she felt Zayn was trying to have her under and she was up for the fight. So she wondered if he knew. She bet he did.

"Don't you know him? He's a teller, love," Zayn answers.

Eleanor gets her hands on both cocks, running from the base to the head with a little pressure, enough to make them shiver.

"So you know what I like, don’t you," she says instead of asking. Zayn doesn’t answer either.

The silence lets her continue. "And he told me things about you, too. Both of you. Do you want to know what I think?"

With that she licks Zayn's slit softly and gives a proper open mouth kiss to the tip of Harry's cock, wet and sloppy, but getting him even harder if that’s possible. "Get closer," she whispers.

"I honestly think you could put your mouth to better use than sharing thoughts," Zayn moves closer and sounds amused despite the words he says. So she just ignores him, sucks the head of Harry’s cock one more time before pulling out and talking again.

"I _think_ you do this bossy thing to protect yourself." Eleanor says as she moves for Zayn’s cock, takes him inside of her mouth. Then she opens wider and tries to fit Harry too but she can't and let's go of both of them. "Closer," she demands again, her voice a little higher.

Harry moves this time, eyes on Zayn, waiting for his reaction to what she's saying. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't thought the same before. But he would never tell. Zayn was calm but once he was off he was off. And that's never a pretty thing to see.

Also: why mess with something that had been working just fine for the past few years?

(That thought gets him thinking about the band for a millisecond. As if he could have forgotten, with El on her knees in front of him. It reminds him why she’s there. Anger and pain turning him on.)

"Protect myself?" Zayn gets a hand around Harry's waist and holds him close, the tip of his fingers getting white with the grip. "What you saying, sweetie? Have we messed you up?"

As tense as the situation is, Eleanor keeps playing with their dicks and Harry sighs as he hides his face in the curve of Zayn's neck, shaking with lust. The more erratically he breathes, the tighter Zayn holds him.

She licks Zayn from the base to the top, twice. Then she sucks as much as she can, his dick pressing at the back of her throat as she keeps it closed and he tries to make her go further and swallow him with a hand on her hair, but she won't. She stops completely before making a gagging sound and pulling him off.

"Yeah," Eleanor clears her throat and turns to Harry's cock. "The minute you realise you're in charge of no shit you're so gonna lose it."

And this time she sucks Harry's whole length a few times, and forces him in her throat - as discomforting as it might be for her - and Harry can't help but moan on Zayn's neck, teeth marking the skin with despair. Eyes on them, Zayn is lost just to consider what she said, so maybe she has a point. Still, Harry holds on to him as she sucks him off, tight grip and shaking body stating that must feel fucking amazing. The fact that he needs him to keep standing, that he clenches around Zayn’s body as Eleanor sucks him off, is nothing but comforting.

"Kiss me, Zayn," Harry begs with trembling lips, unable to level up his head and take his mouth, still hiding in the corner of his neck. "Please please kiss me on the mouth," he moans.

And Zayn does just that, lifts his head with soft fingers on his chin and kisses the moans out of his pretty mouth.

He doesn't even realise he had moved closer when he feels Harry's dick touching his and then Eleanor's mouth is wrapping both of their heads. She holds both of them with her two hands and works on their lengths while they share the small space in her mouth.

The sensation is not _that_ good. She can’t suck with her mouth stretched like that, let alone take more than the heads of both cocks. But she has just had Harry’s cock in her throat and Harry’s lost in it.

It's that thought that sets Harry off and he breaks the kiss because he has to see it.

Right there he feels it for the first time in his life: the urge to destroy something just because it's too beautiful.

She is so pretty he wants to _wreck her._

Zayn seems to agree because he moans and reaches for her stretched lips, holding Harry harder with the other hand. "Such a good girl," he says and Eleanor muffles a displeased sound with her mouth full. "You know you are," he kind of mocks her.

In that fight Harry can't do much but watch. He’s leaning toward Zayn because that's known territory. And also because she was begging like a whore when Harry had his hand on her pussy. However, he can't deny she has a hell of a point sucking them like that. He would do anything she said right there as she curls her tongue over their heads.

But Harry. Harry wants no part in controlling tonight. Looking at him and Zayn stretching the lips of their best friend's girlfriend, he just wants to lose it.

Part of him knows he already has.

Eleanor does a messy job, then. Licking and sucking and kissing  the two dicks side by side however she can. She puts her flat tongue out and with one hand she strokes them together, licking the little precum dripping from them with her mouth wide open. "Do you like how we taste, kitty?"

She gives both of them one last long lick and gets up with her eyes on Zayn.

"Rule number 1: we show, don't tell."

She kisses him on the mouth, one hand on Harry's chin pulling him closer. Eleanor feels he is hesitant to take part on a triple kiss and she wasn't really fond of it either. But fuck it - she wants them both so badly it's inevitable to tighten the grip on his chin and turn her head to give him space, making it very clear what she wants. He obliges.

It's messy to the point it's barely a kiss. But they taste it all just there so perhaps it's even better. Harry's mind can even point the taste of her pussy he had gotten from Zayn's mouth earlier. And there’s still both of their dicks. Three mouths. All wrapped with red wine and revenge.

It's insane.

His dick is touching her thigh and he wants to put it in whatever he can, be it tight and hot so he can come because he's too fucking hard. But he also wants to keep it like that, rubbing on her, mouth open being fucked by two tongues.

A whole lot of saliva keeps dripping on his chin and even on his chest.

Zayn pulls back and Harry keeps kissing her because he can't stop. But Zayn's absence is gigantic when they manage a proper kiss because Eleanor’s sweet and delicate and Zayn is just not. Then Harry feels Zayn's hand on his ass and hears him say close to her ear:

"Harry sucks pussy really good." , She hums in Harry’s mouth. "Why don't we get you back to bed?"

That sounds like enough of a good idea to get her breaking, Harry breathing through his mouth in her cheek. His nose is pressed against her as he breathes her in and she says directly to Zayn, "I want your fingers, two in the pussy and one in the ass. Do you think you can work that out?"

It's sort of funny the way Zayn eyes Harry like he knows (which he doesn't, he can't) and says, "Sure." It gets Harry turning his head to Zayn and locking glances.

As if to prove his point he puts his index finger of his left inside Harry's mouth. Harry curls his tongue around it, sucks hard, his mouth hunger for more. Then Zayn gets it out of him and inside of her soaking panties and it slides easily inside her.

It's not that she's being finger fucked; she is so turned on she can barely feel one finger. But the tease. She moans helplessly, lets her eyes fall close for a while.

He moves his finger inside of her, curling it around to get to know her, and she bends her knees a little, almost imperceptible, but Zayn notices. How could he not with a finger inside of her?

She wants her entrance stretched just as her mouth was a little while ago but she also wants that finger touching her walls, pressing every nerve inside of her as it is right there. Her mouth falls open in a muted moan and Harry takes it half because it's open and half because it’s fucking delicious.

"Lay down now." Harry speaks this time, with husky voice against her lips, pulling her towards the mattress.

And Eleanor does just that, sadly making Zayn’s index finger slide out of her, but she spreads her legs and rests her weight on her elbows so she can watch.

Harry kneels on the floor between her thighs, forces them a little more open, and goes straight for the hood but over the lace of her panties. He licks at the wet fabric hard enough she can feel the exact shape of his tongue over her lips but still has just the lace texture and not the hot muscle. Eleanor can’t help but whine.

"I fucking love your panties," Harry says against her, gets it between his teeth over the soft flesh - and it’s inevitable that he gives her a small bite in the process.

Zayn laughs dryly. "You could try them on," he points out.

Harry just ignores him. He knows he's just saying things to show off to Eleanor, to prove he's still in charge no matter what she says. But Harry is more interested in her pussy offered to him than whatever trick Zayn wants to pull out, so he pulls the panties aside, lacking the courage to take them off, and licks her, flat tongue savoring her wet lips unceremoniously.

She sighs because even after all the kissing his tongue is still cold against the warmth of her sex and it feels fucking amazing.

"I always knew you were good with your mouth." It's like a confession coming out of her mouth, like she can't hold the thought in.

Zayn keeps her legs open with a tight grip of his right hand on her thigh, the left hand on her hair holding her head up so she can look at Harry. When he talks, his voice is like honey but he knows it's mean. He just- He _wants_ mean. He wants them to know what is happening right there because it’s not just an accidental hook up after too many years, too much booze. It’s getting back at his best friends for things he’s sure he could never pair up to.

"Is he better than Louis?" is the question he asks.

Though he knows the answer to that.

 

#

 

"The fact that you all knew it so clearly, what you were doing," Louis points. And he doesn't know if it makes it worse or better, it's just relevant enough to be mentioned.

Like, would he feel worse if they had forgotten all about him? If they had broken his heart and not thought about him for one second?

But does it make him feel any better? Is it not cheating just because it’s about him?

Hearing the words Zayn is saying is the same - just there, not really helping, but necessary. And somehow he knows all this is bad enough, nothing could make it worse. But it is still something else - to know it all.

"I know it's stupid but you are the reason we did it," Zayn says. "And you were everywhere."

They stare at each other for a while. Louis had shared some tears, not just from screaming in the living room, but also with one word or another that would come out Zayn’s mouth too sharp, but now his eyes are clear, slightly puffy and red, but clear. Zayn is stolid, though, like some death god looking down from below, still sitting at the window sill.

After his last smoke he hadn't lit up another cigarette and it got him unsure of where to put his hands. Right now he has them on his knees but they had been everywhere - Louis had watched them closely with no courage to look him in the eyes again.

Then he sees Zayn reaching for his pocket once again and he says, even if he knows it's lame comparison. "Since you've been more than okay with taking what is mine, may I have one?"

Zayn just stares, says nothing and throws the pack to him after getting one cigarette out for himself.

Louis gets up from the bed looking for something to put the ashes on before lighting the cigarette. When the smoke fills his lung it feels like cheating - but doesn’t it all?

“So what did she say?” he finally asks. And he imagines it, just for a second, ashtrash in one hand and cigarette in the other, staring at the bed as if it could answer him. He sees her, half lying on the bed and sees Harry’s hand behind one of her thighs, spreading her open and sucking her like his life depends on it.

Louis can see it clearly, her arching her body as the orgasm builds inside of her, gasping for air between moans, tears in her eyes like she gets when it is good enough. Eleanor has this crazy look when it’s too much, like she might kill you just because. She also makes these sounds that he doesn’t know the word for - maybe there really isn’t - because she tries to breathe but she can’t so the air escapes when she screams and it sounds bad, sounds like she’s being hurt or showing off but it also sounds like music.

So there’s that. The smoke filling his lungs as he pictures his girlfriend fighting her breath to say yes, Harry sucks her just right.

Yes, Harry’s better than him.

 

#

 

She just stares at Zayn because he said the wrong thing, he brought Louis up and it still hurts - of course it does, why else would she be there?

But then Harry uses both hands to open her so he can lick her properly, suck her clit, and she’s back to sighing, fighting to keep her eyes open.

Zayn kneels next to Harry, gets the hand off her hair and holds the panties for him, so he can use his free hand to pull her lip gently and get his tongue playing in her entrance, just enough to tease.

“Come on,” she whispers, more to herself than anyone else, but Zayn catches that and smirks at her, one hand pulling Harry’s hair to contain him, too.

“Don’t,” he says and Harry nods in understanding.

The panties are trapped in both Zayn’s index and middle finger, so he uses his thumb to press her clit gently, but it is dry so she feels electricity in the touch, and throws her head back taking a deep breath as her legs start to shake.

Harry holds them in place, leaning back and smiling. “Hold it, baby,” he says. “You said you wanted fingers.”

And they can’t see it but she’s biting her lips so hard she can only make a sound that could be in agreement.

It can be both because they pity her or because they are as desperate as she is but Zayn finally moves his other hand and gets it in her. His fingers touching in between her lips. It gets Harry fighting his thumb with his tongue on her clit, and to adjust his position Zayn lets him win, but then it’s his middle finger’s tip in her entrance and fuck that, fuck everything.

She lets her body fall down because her elbows are weak to hold her shaking body and gets her hands on her breasts. It’s really just to remember how to breath but then her hands feel good and she touches herself, teases her own nipples while the two boys play with her.

Harry sucks her clit hard and Zayn finds room to push his middle finger inside of her, curling it as he did before with his index finger, when she was standing. But his middle one is longer, he can reach better, explores her until he finds it, a small rugged part of her that gets a loud moan of her lips. He brushes it slightly with just one finger but then she’s shaking more and more and he puts another finger in, scissoring them.

Harry licks between his fingers, getting her fluid up to her clit and sucking on it some more because he likes her taste as much as he likes the sounds she’s making. Harry knows she’s close and he wants way more than his tongue in her pussy but he also can’t stop. He moves one of the hands that had been in her groin to his dick and starts working on it.

Zayn feels it, how Harry’s breathing through the sucking gets messier - he didn’t even know it was possible - and feels left out because he has both of his hands busy with Eleanor and can’t touch his dick. So he pulls the panties out of frustration and feels the fabric stretch a bit. With the other hand he keeps fucking her with his fingers, and the only reason he can keep both fingers inside of her is Harry’s solo hand holding her in place because Eleanor is all over the place, shaking, crying, screaming. She can barely notice the fabric trapped under her ass, marking her skin as Zayn pulls it.

Zayn does the only thing he can on this position: he rubs his dick on the back of Harry’s thigh. And when Harry takes a breath Zayn knows is for sucking hard he gets both of his fingers around the rugged part inside of Eleanor and presses it.

Then it’s that. Zayn fingering her clit from the inside and Harry licking it on the outside and she’s done. She comes so hard with her hands on her breasts she doesn’t even know she could cry like that. It feels like her lungs will come out of her mouth. It feels like being hit by waves and waves of something she doesn’t know, but feels electric and wet and it could be the ocean or a storm or anything. It keeps going for longer than she remembered it could, air forcing its way out of her before she can get it in.

When it stops she forces her legs closed, trying to get them away because it’s just too much, she’s too sensitive. Harry gives her the minute she needs, licks on her groin and then her thigh with an undying smile on his face and a hand on his dick, slowing the pace. But Zayn… He really can’t. He leans on the space Harry vacated and licks her entrance with his fingers still inside, savoring her cum and moves for the clit because he wants more screaming and more shaking. He just wants it all again.

“Fuck, Zayn, no,” she cries quietly as her legs start to shake again. “Stop, stop, stop…”

She wants it good again – forever - and maybe the shakiness is pointing out that she can have more of that, but right now it's an unknown land. What the hell happens after you come so hard and keep going? She just won't go there. She needs a minute.

He backs off a little, gets his fingers out and knows she misses them when she puts less strength in trying to close her legs.

“You came too soon,” is what he says, husky voice from keeping too many words in for the last couple of minutes. “I still owe you a finger in the ass.”

And Harry laughs, turns back and kisses Zayn’s mouth, a hand still on his own cock, the other looking for Zayn’s and stroking them both. Their kiss tastes like her.

“He has a point, El.” Harry breaks the kiss to talk. “Get yourself together, we are dying here.”

She stares, mouth watering with the possibilities, and moves back on the bed, gets her feet on the mattress, pushing her body up. With the movement her panties get caught in between her lips and it puts pressure on her clit. She closes her eyes because it sends shivers through her spine but it also still hurts. She can’t quite figure out how it can do both.

“I need water,” is what she says, unable to handle too many words.

 

#

 

Not even all the nicotine in the world could smooth that down.

Louis feels his throat clench. He can't quite breathe and when he closes his eyes it’s that picture he never saw printed in his eyelids. It’s Eleanor and she is gone, she is with them. But it’s also… It’s Harry. It’s Zayn.

He knows he is crying again because his cheeks get wet out of nowhere but he can’t quite feel anything but the coldness surrounding him. It’s not really the weather, it’s being left alone, cheated on, or whatever.

It’s a glimpse of a thought, he doesn’t let it build up inside of him, but still it crosses his mind as quick as a shooting star: he wonders if they felt it in his skin when they found out what he had done. If it’s the cheating that gets him sick to his stomach or if it’s because this is much worse than simple betrayal.

But then the mattress moves and it is not on his mind or in Zayn’s words. It’s for real. And he feels Zayn’s warmth close to him and he envies him for pretty much everything. For Zayn's own heartbreak even, because he thinks he could bare that, it would hurt but way less than the shattered piece inside of his chest. After all, Zayn is stronger than him, and if he only could be him for a day maybe he would make it. Maybe he could face him and Harry and El.

But he is not.

“Let’s stop here,” Zayn murmurs. “Don’t you think you’ve heard enough?”

And of course he smiles between the tears escaping his still closed eyes, broken lips and broken teeth and bloody ironic but still his smile. “Why, haven’t you fucked her right, Z.”

Zayn sighs and goes for his hand, the cigarette forgotten in Louis’ other hand leaving ashes in the sheets but it’s far from the dirtiest thing that bed has had so he doesn’t mind. Louis opens his eyes to see Zayn’s fingers trying to hold his and it feels absurd. Hasn’t he done enough?

He gets his hand out of Zayn's reach and looks in his eyes. As much as it hurts his guts he knows it hurts Zayn, too, so he holds the look.

“If you want I could ask her, how does that sound.” Louis never asks, just tells him. “I could call her right now.”

By now he should have learned Zayn is good at doing damage too, maybe better than him in also that, so maybe he should back off a little.

But he doesn’t - _didn’t_.

And it’s only fair when Zayn says, “Give it a try. Maybe this time she picks up since I’m busy with you and not getting her off like she never had before.”

 

#

 

He calls her cellphone three times that night.

And then, just because something doesn’t feel right, he calls her one more time and leaves a message.

He says, “El, please. I’m worried. We can sort this out, baby. Call me back. You know I’ve never let you down before. Call me back, love.”

 

#

 

Zayn can't help but be a bit smug about that, like El asking for water is somehow a compliment. But he doesn't say anything.

And as if her approval suddenly makes him grow fonder of her he caresses her thigh lightly and gets up, leaving them alone to get a bottle.

Harry ends up cuddling her, ignoring his hard cock to hold her close and bring her back from her orgasm, but he can't help the way his hands moves over her, all lust and desire. When Zayn comes back she has her face hidden in his neck, sighing heavily while he strokes her breasts.

He sits on the bed next to them, closer to Harry, and offers them the bottle by placing it on her waist, the cold plastic making El shiver and curse under her breath.

It's the way her mouth feels after that, cold from the water, all tastes almost gone, that keeps Harry kissing her mouth as long as he can. He is so lost in it he sort of misses how Zayn removes his pants entirely and lies behind him, a hard cock that had softened just a little from the interruption, rubbing on his thighs and ass back to its full hardness.

He only gets what is going on when Zayn turns his head holding his jaw and takes his mouth - the coldness of the water stolen from Eleanor's.

Zayn whispers in between the kiss as Harry keeps touching El. "Do you want to fuck her?"

Eleanor laughs at that, warm breath in Harry's ear.

"Of course he does."

It's the way she wraps her legs in his, half climbing up his body to get Zayn's lips on hers that gives him the idea.

"I want to watch you two."

It sounds as if she had thought about it all along when she says it - like it's the most normal thing in the whole world. "And why don't you both fuck me?"

That gets Zayn biting her lower lip.

 

#

 

It was almost comical. So for maybe two minutes Zayn is silent, not sure how to keep telling the story, but clearly turned on by the memory. And Louis is both shocked and outraged.

Now he feels like taking up the previous offer, stopping there and letting the rest be imagination. And that's how he knows his plan is working.

 

#

 

Sex between two people is easy, it goes naturally, nothing has to be said.

But that’s not how it goes with three.

So it’s strange, Harry gets nervous, Eleanor is biting her lower lip just where Zayn has bit her, and Zayn is off the bed again getting lube and condoms from a drawer.

Harry asks because he’s clearly the most worried one. “Have you done this before?”

And she snorts, kneels closer to him and kisses his neck, his chest. “Not with two cocks. One cock and a dildo, a few times.”

Zayn gets behind her, leaves everything in the mattress and touches her hair, her waist, pulls her panties down finally, just enough so it’s under her ass and he cups it. Then he properly grabs her, his knuckles kneading the meat.

“A big one?” he asks when he touches her hole with his right thumb, putting just a little pressure on the rim.

“Medium. In the pussy usually, vibrations and all. And also because I like a real cock in the ass.”

Harry snorts and when he talks, Eleanor’s wrapping one of his nipples with her lips so it comes out a little breathless. “Don’t we all.”

Zayn laughs, shakes his head like ‘really, Harry?’ but doesn’t deny it.

It’s Eleanor sighing again, Zayn teasing her rim, Harry’s torso under her tongue to be explored. She pushes back a little, craving for action, and Zayn gets the fingers of his right hand in Harry’s mouth because his lips are always an obscenity. Harry gets messy but does the job of getting them wet, Eleanor running a flat tongue over his chest and then teeth on his nipple, soft and harsh at the same time, but all warm.

Zayn gets the tip of one finger inside of her and just when it starts being uncomfortable she pushes out and he slides in, going past the knuckle. It’s quite funny because Zayn knows asses, but the way his other fingers are touching her, so close to another entrance, is sort of new. It gives him more room, lets him move more freely. It’s both strange and good.

“Come on, baby, give me more,” she demands and because of that Zayn slaps her left buttcheek softly but firmly.

“Let daddy work, girl,” he snorts. And she throws her head back, her hair is so long that her curls almost brushes Zayn’s wrist.

“Thought I was the one who had experience with this.” She says a little breathless and pushes back one more time getting spanked once again. Whimpering is inevitable. “You should be the one calling me momma, boy.”

Harry moves down, places a wet kiss to her exposed neck, feels her muscles working on swallowing her own saliva under his lips, and then it clenching when Zayn hits her one more time. His slaps are firm but soft, the sound is just a muffle.

“You are,” Harry whispers against her warm skin. “But tonight we’re taking care of you.”

It’s nice, his soft touch, Zayn’s rough hands slapping her ass again. It gets her eyes closing, a heavy sigh out of her lips even if she knows it won’t be quite like that. She needs to ease them through it, otherwise they might hurt her - not the easiest thing, this having two holes filled up.

She kisses Harry’s mouth some more, he tastes like her and heaven and all the good things. The boy puts on a show - he kisses like he eats pussy, not afraid to get dirty, all in, getting off by just getting his mouth fucked. Eleanor knows that because his hand is back to working on his dick, getting it to full hardness, and it’s so hot, how Zayn is teasing her hole for what is yet to come, one finger sliding in and out, how her legs are still weak from her previous orgasm, but also the noises Harry’s making into the kiss. She gets both her hands on his neck pulling him closer and fucks his mouth with her tongue, gets him moaning into her mouth the way she likes it.

There’s no room for telling, that would get Zayn's attention, make him go all demanding - a little cocky - and she doesn’t want that, so instead she just runs her hands over Harry’s chest, pushes a little, gets him to lay down carefully and straddles him.

Zayn’s finger almost slides out with the movement but he curls it to hold up, gets her a little bit more stretched. And it’s good, gets her attention glued to him the whole time even if she can’t see him.

“Harry, love, why don’t you reach for the condom there,” she points and he blindly extends his arm, eyes on her all the way. “Get two. And lube.”

She gets one condom from him and the bottle of lube, gives them both to Zayn as if saying hurry up.

Zayn takes it, and pours the lube from the top, some of it wetting her lower back, sliding between her cheeks towards her hole. He gets another finger wet, rubbing against the liquid, and pushes it in. A little friction, just enough to make her want to fuck herself onto him but she’s got a very hard cock in between her legs and that is also very inviting.

“So tight, you know that.” He says. “So warm too, I can’t wait to be inside you.” Zayn whispers in her ear, gets his hand motioning another slap but touching her so softly she only remembers the almost-pain in the skin from the previous one. “Can I get you all red, El? Would let me?”

She is biting her own lips, her hands going down, one wrapping Harry’s dick, stroking gently, the other touching herself and she should have wet her fingers first because it’s dry on her clit and a bit uncomfortable.

“Baby, lube,” she asks, throwing the hand that had been touching herself over her shoulder and Zayn obliges.

He still has two fingers inside of her and he gets the other hand back to her cheek as soon as she’s satisfied with the amount of lube he gives her. He squeezes her a little, reminding her of the question he’d just asked, kneads his fingers in the soft flesh.

“El, may I?” He asks again in a whisper into her ear, the warm breath raising the hair on her nape,  and how can she say no to that.

She nods eagerly and holds back a moan when the hand is off her and she knows what’s happening next. Harry gets one hand on her hips just as fast, holding her tight enough she’s sure he’s leaving white marks.

And then it comes, a rough slap, right in the middle of her left cheek. She whimpers and it gets her another one, Zayn whispering “shhh” in her ear like at the very beginning, when she was begging for slaps against her pussy. When she still hadn’t come in their mouths.

He watches dazzled as the meat bounces a bit after each slap. Her firm butt so warm so soon he’s sad she won’t be taking much without pain. He’s going to have to hold himself back.

“Be good, babe,” he whispers. “You were giving Harry a handjob, remember? Got distracted, love?”

And that triggers something. She had a plan.

“Yes, yes, Harry...” she says, her voice unsteady, a little breathless, and when she bends over, taking his lips, his cock touching her lower belly softly but enough to get her rolling her eyes back, dreaming of putting it inside her, Zayn slaps her again, three times, each one harder.

She moans into the kiss, Harry holding her up with a hand on the hips and the other on her shoulder while she works on them both, two fingers pressing her clit, the other hand stroking Harry.

But kissing like this is not easy, so she moves and hides her face in Harry’s neck again, breathing against the hot skin. Air coming out of her mouth so fast and strong it gets the curve of his shoulder wet with her saliva.

“I want to fuck you now,” Harry says, shaking under her touch. “Be inside you.”

Eleanor shakes her head.

“No, no, wait.” She lowers down, his cock rubbingher pussy between her fingers, one hand out so their sexes can touch, but the other still there so she keeps him from getting inside.

It feels so good, it’s all slicky now from the lube she had used in herself. She slides her pussy over his dick back and forth and Zayn follows her rhythm, a slap every time she humps in, his fingers inside her the whole time but never steady, just moving around. Scissor motions to get her open.

Harry is moaning, forcing her hips down with both hands so he can have more friction. She’s holding her body up with just one elbow and is this close to losing it, giving up on her plan, each time the tip of Harry’s hard cock runs over her entrance, and the pressures on her clit. It takes everything in her to say actual words again.

“Zayn... you have to get in first,” she informs him. And because he does nothing and she’s losing it, she begs. “Now, Zayn, now, now...”

And he loves it, she knows, because he’s spanking her again, taking his fingers out of her and slapping her with both hands, one on each cheek. Once. Twice. She loses count.

“Gonna fuck you good, now.” He says. The sound of his rough palm hitting her filling the room each time. “Gonna get you full with my cock.”

She can only nod because fuck, yes.

Harry sighs under her, holds her in one thrust so hard she can’t move back to thrust again, his cock spilling precome over her clit and she knows it’s not one of her smartest ideas, not the safest sex move. Putting her mind back together she says, “Condom.”

It makes her snort how they both say “Right” at the same time.

 

#

 

Louis presses his lips together and moves for the window where Zayn had just been.

He looks outside, the backyard of Harry’s place so dark he can’t see his plants, the old wood chair no one ever sits in, old boots that have been there forever. He knows those details, he had been there a thousand times. He has everything about Harry and Zayn memorized.

So he knows how it’s going to go, he doesn’t even need Zayn to tell him anymore. He knows as if he had been there, watching with his own eyes, how Eleanor is gonna get wrecked, how she’s gonna look with both holes filled by his best friends.

It would be so fucking hot if it wasn’t so heartbreaking.

When they found out about what Louis had done, when things started going bad, Louis was surprised that none of them ever asked how he did what he did.

All of them, in their own way, only asked him one thing: if it was true. As if Louis saying no would be enough to change their minds, despite what was written on the cover of all the papers across the world.

Louis said yes, though. At the time.

Now he thinks he should probably have said more, tried to explain.

So he tells Zayn now, because he can’t change the past be it when they found out or when it all started. He says, “I did it because I thought I wasn’t worth enough to be in the band.”

But mostly he says it because he wants Zayn to feel guilty for what he’s telling him, he wants Zayn’s skin burning from what he did to him when he fucked Eleanor.

He can feel Zayn freezing in rage behind him because Zayn won’t take the fault for this.

So Louis continues. “When it all started and I was just another shadow, you were there, you know how I felt during the X Factor. I was just a shadow in the band… They came not long after that, our single wasn’t even out yet, and I just-” he stops, takes a deep breath, faces the dark like it can take all of his mistakes and make them disappear. Even if he knows now just getting rid of his wrongs wouldn’t be enough. They would have to disappear with the mistakes of everyone he loves as well.

“I thought if I had something, a trump, I’d be safe.” He goes on. “You would kick me out eventually but I’d have made some money, saved some for my own, and if not, it would get you all needing me for a while longer.”

Zayn talks, then, hoarse voice from holding back.

“What? Do you think leaking information would have helped you stay in the band?” And because Louis keeps quiet longer, he continues. “Selling me out all the fucking times I slipped. Breaking me and Pez up over the news. Helping spread every fucking rumour about me, about El. Did it help you at all? Has it made you last longer?”

Louis smirks even if no one can see him. Zayn only watching his back, his gaze so strong he can physically feel it.

“It has, hasn’t it? I’m still in.”

 

#

 

The woman is wearing sunglasses indoors and it’s so stupid and tacky Louis keeps his eyes on his cup of coffee so he won’t make a face.

She gets a paper from her purse, her own cup of coffee resting on the table, and gives it to Louis. It has a huge number, not too long that he’s not used to it, but still impressive to get his eyebrows up two levels.

“What do you say?” she asks. Her lipstick is too dark, staining a bit in the corner of her mouth where the porcelain touches her when she sips. “Enough?”

He knows how to play this game as much as he knows how to do a painting. Which is to say he has no clue what he’s doing.

She smiles to herself when he says, “Yes, that will do.”

Later Louis learns he had been easy. Later he learns it was too fucking cheap.

“You have to connect his phone to this, it’ll install the software I need to record, and then you just connect it again the next day.” She gives him a small device he can easily fit in his pocket.

Louis sighs, nods while holding the device, staring at it for a while.

“What else will this do for me?” He’s not talking about the equipment.

The woman takes off the glasses, then. Her green eyes are traced with heavy eyeliner built up in the wrinkles beginning to form in the corner.  “We’ve been through this, Louis. If they have them breaking, doing inappropriate stuff, they’ll need you to do the right thing, to hold the moral of the band, you know that.”

“But it will hurt other people.” He points out. He always says the same thing but still, he points it one more time.

That gets the woman sipping on the coffee, resting her glasses on the table, before talking again.

“You are not hurting Perrie Edwards. Zayn is. If anything you’re just letting her know, it’s kind of noble if you want to know my opinion.”

Because he knows it’s bullshit, he says, “I don’t.”

 

#

 

Zayn puts the condom on fast and then gets the bottle of lube again, gets some of the cool gel in his hands and strokes himself, and then puts some with the tip of his fingers inside El’s open hole.

He’s thinner than Harry, so it’s good that he’s fucking her back, but he’s also larger than three fingers. When he positions himself and puts the tip in, Eleanor feels the pain building up and breathes heavily.

It doesn’t help that she had to stop thrusting over Harry’s cock to give access to Zayn, but Harry’s quick to get his fingers on her clit, pressing softly, rubbing enough to send shivers down her spine, help her relax some more.

Zayn gets a hand in her hair, pulls her body slightly up and it gets her neck exposed to Harry again, who is fast in kissing and licking the skin.

“Tell me, El. How does he feel inside of you?” he asks, his voice hoarse from lust.

The words come naturally, maybe because Zayn told her that was what he was going to do. Maybe because that’s exactly what he’s doing.

“He’s filling me up,” she manages a little breathless. “He’s filling me up so good, Harry.”

Harry can't help it, lasts less than a second, but the words coming out of her lips make him do it. He sinks his teeth in her neck with too much strength. They are all too out of it to remember the mark is gonna be there for longer than tonight. El’s only reaction is to moan.

When Zayn is all inside, eyes closed so he can keep his cool, hold still inside of her tight hole, he gives her a minute to breath. To get used to him.

It’s not just the size. It’s also how fucking hard he is inside of her. But on top of it all, it’s how hot he feels, a burning sensation she can't make go away. It gets her dizzy.

She feels when Harry’s hand reaches for his own cock, stroking himself as he touches her, too slow but too good. It's getting her insanely turned on, to be fucked over another guy's body. Having Harry so worked up just by the pleasure she’s getting. The pain is barely a memory compared to this feeling.

Her legs shake a bit and she pushes back, three hands on her keeping her in place. "Move," she asks.

Zayn pinches both her cheeks before getting almost all of himself out and pushing back in. His pace excruciatingly slow but still so good, pressing her muscles from the inside, opening her up.

He looks down to where he disappears inside of her pink hole, caresses her right cheek before running his hand up her back, to her nape and holding her. He leans forward to breathe in her ear, get her scent and lick the skin. “You’re fucking delicious, girl.” He tells her and each word gets his breath touching her skin, gets her shivering under his touch and around his cock.

Harry moves his hand further to touch her entrance, the one Zayn’s fucking, and he curses under his breath. Closes his eyes, mouth watering.

Maybe that’s the motivation Zayn needed to speed up his pace a bit, fucking her properly now. A dry muffle every time their skin touch when he thrusts.

She clenches her jaw to hold her moans but it's ineffective, the sound escaping in between her teeth.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he moans as he slaps her again. Her meat is hot and red, he won’t keep it up, but it’s enough to remind her how much she fucking loves it. Zayn’s palm is hot and hard, big on her warm cheeks.

“Harry,” Eleanor calls a little breathless, moves a hand to Zayn’s side to hold him still. “Harry, please.”

“Get more lube,” Zayn says and she thanks him mentally for keeping his sanity through this.

It gives her a tiny second of sobriety and she gets her hand down on his dick to check if he has a condom on, unable to find the words to ask, and it’s there. So she just lets him do his thing, lining up in her entrance, and pushing her down, Zayn moving slightly along so he doesn’t get out of her.

Harry’s shaking under her, his palm is sweaty in her skin and she wants to laugh at him for his insecurity, but also wants to kiss and reassure  him. Zayn steadies him, holds his arm with a little strength to get his attention and that’s when Harry breathes out.

Eleanor gets that moment when the attention isn’t all on her to rest her head on Harry’s chest as he goes another inch inside.

It’s absolutely crazy how it fits. Her muscles are relaxed from the previous orgasm, she’s absolutely soaked with lube and her come, but it’s still too much. She feels like if she even breathes wrong she can hurt herself.

Zayn shifts inside of her and it presses against where Harry’s pushing in. She can’t help it, she clenches around them and lets out a muffled sound Harry misunderstands but Zayn doesn’t.

“Don’t move,” he says sharply to Harry, and gets his hand back on Eleanor, in the middle of her back, soothing her down. “Breathe, El. You gotta relax.”

She nods slightly.

Harry touches the back of her neck, the side of her cheek, and gets her facing him, kisses her mouth very slowly, and she lets the air out against his lips.

“You’re so fucking warm,” he mumbles against her lips. “Tight, tight..”

Every little breath she lets out, he slides inside of her, and it presses against Zayn. She can’t help it, she just shakes, her whole body out of control once they are completely inside of her.

“Wish you could see yourself now,” Harry says. “You look amazing.”

The way she closes her eyes, sad smile on her face, tells Harry exactly what crosses her mind, and Zayn reads it in his eyes because it’s crossing his too.

Wish _he_ could see you now.

 

#

 

“You can try and make me feel guilty about it,” Zayn says. “Truth is for me it was payback and god knows you deserved it.”

“You don’t?” Louis looks at him.

“What?”

“Feel guilty about it?”

Zayn is ready to say yes when he stops, Louis can see the word dying on his lips.

If it was the other way around - lets say Zayn wasn’t that amazing singer, incredibly good looking guy with his insecurities under control, lets say Zayn was the one to take up on that offer - Louis doesn’t know if he would feel guilty. He probably wouldn’t be sitting with Zayn in his bedroom telling the most awful story he had ever heard.

Just, Zayn would never.

Zayn did his own thing, after a while. He went to look for back up to actually keep his name worth something outside of One Direction, that Naughty Boy collab and shit. But he wouldn’t do it at the cost of Louis’ anything, specially Louis’ relationship.

That is to say it would hardly be necessary to have a vendetta against Zayn.

That’s also to say Louis wouldn’t feel guilty for a second if it had came to it, though.

Because Louis never did when he betrayed Zayn in the first place.

Louis knew Zayn always had it all figured out. That Louis could never knock him out. He knew he could try to wreck him and Zayn would stand still, unaffected as he is right now. Zayn’s better than him. By a long shot.

“I do.” Zayn says at last. “I wish I didn’t, but I can’t look at you and not feel guilt for that look in your eyes. It kills me, that I wish I hadn’t hurt you. At least I didn’t feel like this at the time. Could be the sex, being horny and all, but also could be me finally giving you what you deserve. I hate you, Louis. I hate you.”

Louis smiles. Zayn is finally shaking with anger, not so much of a death god now.

“I know,” he says, the undying smirk on his red and wet face. “I hate me too.”

 

#

 

When they move it’s hard to find a rhythm, and for the first time in a long time, Eleanor has to just be there, still, letting them work on her, so they get it right. It could be bad, how she has to hand them the control, but it’s not because they are making her feel so good. Every time they thrust in she feels her muscles being pressed in between them, the nerves being smashed together and it’s too hot, too good.

They barely have to hit a spot, filling her up everywhere, battling their hands over her body.

Zayn comes first, been fighting it since the minute he got inside her. It’s a loud moan and he can’t bury himself inside Eleanor as he wishes on the price of getting Harry out, or maybe hurting her, so he gets out still coming, his cock pulsing letting loads of come inside the condom.

She sounds annoyed, tries to get him back, but Harry flips her over, gets her back on the mattress and fucks the ability to speak out of her. It almost makes Zayn come again, the way she screams loudly incoherent words and pulls him closer with flat hands on his back.

Eleanor comes not long after that, her pussy clenching and muscles bumping around Harry and that’s enough for him, he shakes all over and Zayn just reaches for him, still holding his own condom in place and smoothing Harry down from his orgasm.

He lets his body fall over her, too heavy and tired to move, but she whines, shifts under him, so Zayn helps him roll to the side, his wet cock brushing her thigh on the way out.

And then it falls silent as their breaths even out, Zayn getting the condom off and putting it away to lie down next to Harry. They are close on the bed but they can’t touch, not anymore, and he knows Eleanor feels cold because he does too, the sweat drying on his skin.

“So, that’s how it feels,” she says sharply, her throat clenching and she doesn’t want to fucking cry.

Harry sighs and reaches for her hand blindly, staring at the ceiling.

“It’s impressively satisfying,” he whispers and Zayn snorts.

He thinks of a hundred sentences to end this, to send them back to hate and away from self-pity, all of them too long, mentioning the details he read in magazines and newspaper that afternoon because his best friend didn’t have the balls to come and tell him himself what he had done exactly, to beg for his pardon.

So he stays silent because he knows none of them needs any words to remember that.

 

#

 

Eleanor is leaving him anyway, it’s not because she also can’t bear to stand in their house now that she fucked Zayn and Harry at the same time.

When she first read the news, she cried for 4 hours. And she made the decision after she heard Louis confirm it to her face.

She just didn’t pack. She got her purse and went out, to Harry’s place where she knew she could find at least Zayn, too. She had to be with people who’d get her, understand what she was feeling.

People who were at least as much in love with Louis as she was.

The news had surprised all of them, except for Louis, because he had been given a heads up from the woman he’d been meeting for 6 years now. She called to warn him he’d be all over the news in two days. He asked if he could buy her silence; she said it was out of her hands. He believed her. Again.

So they already had a meeting arranged for that morning, asked personally by Louis, and that’s when Zayn heard about it, not having read the papers before getting in the office. There had been whispers on the matter for a couple of weeks (and honestly, through the years), all shamelessly brushed off by a very convincing Louis.

When Zayn walks in he’s clueless, he’d put his hand on fire for Louis. But Harry has those red eyes biting on his nails and Zayn knows something is off. Louis is facing the window, back to him.

When Harry points to the newspaper on the table and Zayn reads the headline he just asks, “Is this true?” and Louis says yes not even looking back. That’s how he knows.

He hears Simon saying something loud and sharp, but he doesn’t make out the words, so he just grabs the paper and turns around to leave.

Someone holds him by the wrist and he’s ready to shove it off when he sees it’s Harry. He just holds him back, moving the two of them out of the conference room.

“No press” is all he hears before getting out of there with Harry under his arm.

They make it to the flat, read all the papers and the news online, Harry breaks glasses with trembling hands, Zayn breaks plates with certain shots to the wall. Perrie calls him, he doesn’t pick up because it’s been too long and it’s meaningless. Harry gets his phone and tosses it away.

They spend the next four to five hours like this before there’s a knock on the door.

Eleanor gets there with puffy eyes covered with expensive make up.

She smiles, asks how are they doing like it’s a normal day, offers a bottle of wine she got on the way. She walks to the kitchen to get an opener, heels stepping on broken glass and completely ignoring it. Looking at her it’s like it’s not all a mess, Harry and Zayn not looking like shit. No one can tell how she feels like getting down on her knees and screaming until something changes.

Because you know, Louis could have just sold them out, made it hard for the band, but he did the whole job of getting them in the news repeatedly, making their lives a nightmare just so his bank account would grow and his own name would remain intact. Fuck what it did for Eleanor, fuck what it did for Zayn and Perrie, fuck what it did for Harry.

So she thinks, fuck him too.

They drink the first bottle ignoring the matter, the second one discussing their plans for Christmas break and falling silent every time something involving Louis would be mentioned, and the third one eyeing each other with the same fucking thing on their minds.

 

#

 

Louis knows his girl, knows exactly right how she could walk confidently towards a bed knowing she’d being followed.

He also knows everything has its price.

She left him alone after she asked the same question Zayn did, if it was true, and he could barely mumble a yes.

He called her three times and she never picked up.

When she got back, she had this purple mark on her neck and a little sweat on her forehead.

He just knew.

And this time she couldn’t ignore the broken glass on their wooden floor.

 

#

 

“She left me,” he says. “I’m glad, though, couldn’t leave her even after this.”

Zayn nods knowingly.

“Are you gonna try to get Perrie back?”

Zayn smirks. “The woman was right, you know. I did the hurting, you just did the telling. It’s been too long anyway. Now there’s Harry.”

It’s Louis turn to nod.

They stare at each other in silence, measuring the length of each sin, trying to see if they have to carry them or if they can lean it on the other.

“8 more months, then?” Louis mouths.

“Yes.”

“Did Simon call? Or anyone?”

Zayn bites the inside of his cheek. “They have something already, they are gonna bullshit our way out of this.”

Louis nods again. “Clean break, then.”

“8 months.” Zayn points as if Louis could forget it. “Then, clean break.”

“Yeah, right.”

Louis eyes the bed one more time. His eyes are burning from crying and from the pictures he had imagined.

“I want you to leave now, please,” Zayn says.

Louis agrees silently and turns to leave the bedroom.

Zayn doesn’t say anything to stop him and Louis doesn’t have any other thing to say. Still, he stops at the door frame and listens to Zayn’s breathing, saves the moment in his head, the last honest moment he’d have with Zayn from now on.

When he walks past Harry the boy is still crying. He looks at Louis with a little pity and that only makes Louis hate him more. But also love. Just the same as Zayn.

8 more months of contract and then a clean break.

He hopes he can make it.

 

#

 

(fim.)

**Author's Note:**

> thank you a lot for reading, I really hope you enjoyed it  
> find me on [tumblr](http://aloopdaloop.tumblr.com/) for hating, loving, etc.  
> [reblogs](https://www.tumblr.com/reblog/105626964627/hrOLaQq4), kudos and comments are better than your football club winning the league (okay, now I've taken this too far)


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